Falling in Love
by Hopeakaarme
Summary: Companion piece to Flee or Fall. The events from Aziraphale's POV. After hiding his feelings for Crowley for a long time, the angel finally gets hope of them being returned. However, he must stop Crowley from leaving at first. SLASH CA.


Disclaimer: I own very little.

A/N: After I wrote Flee or Fall, I was told that Aziraphale was rather OOC in it. That, I have to admit, is quite true -- if you don't know what he is thinking during the story. So, this is a companion piece to Flee or Fall -- the same events, told from Aziraphale's POV. I don't know whether or not this clears anything up, but at least it was fun to write.

...Oh, and I do know that the title sucks. Forgive me; my imagination just isn't at its best at 1:30 AM.

* * *

Falling... in Love

* * *

Aziraphale raised his eyes from the book he was reading as his ears caught the voice coming from the front of the shop. "Oi, angel!" a familiar voice called. "You here?" 

The angel smiled a bit, closing the ancient book and picking it up. "Wherever else might I be, my dear?" he called out while starting to walk to the actual shop. Crowley knew perfectly well where he was, as there was no way he could not notice the angelic aura so near, yet he still insisted on asking. How very typical.

He stepped into the shop and saw Crowley. As usual, the demon was wearing all black, a pair of shades covering his eyes. Why he insisted on wearing those Aziraphale did not know. It wasn't like humans could see his snake eyes anyway; they were very good at not seeing what they didn't believe in. He noted that although Crowley clearly didn't fit in his old, dusty bookshop, the demon still somehow seemed to blend in. Over the years his aura had become to adjust to Aziraphale's own angelic presence, which unavoidably also affected his preferred surroundings. Therefore Crowley was also adjusted to the bookshop in a way, giving him a sense of belonging that was most unusual.

Like always, the angel felt a bit uneasy as he saw his old friend. While Crowley looked perfect as usual, Aziraphale himself was rather much in disarray. His hair was a mess, his clothes admittably old-fashioned, and a pair of reading glasses he didn't really need but still liked to wear was sitting on his nose. He was still carrying the book he'd been reading before Crowley had arrived.

The younger man smirked in a way that made Aziraphale feel even more uneasy, although he made sure not to show it. "Why the glasses, angel?" the demon asked teasingly. "It's not like you need them. Although I have to admit, they do fit your style. Just as out-of-date as the rest of you."

At that, Aziraphale frowned. "Was that really necessary?" he admonished, but couldn't stop the amusement from showing up in his eyes. He had a long time ago come to bear Crowley's taunts, and the demon no more could truly insult him as he knew he wasn't serious with his stabs. Still, the demon kept trying. He seemingly got some kind of twisted amusement out of pissing him off.

"Yes, it was," Crowley replied, grinning broadly. He, too, knew the rules of this game, and knew that neither of them could ever win. "Come on, Az," he then said. Okay, so it was again time for 'Az', then. Every now and then, Crowley would start shortening his name just to annoy him, then again forget it for a couple of decades only to dig it up again. It was annoying, but not enough to make him really angry. "You haven't set a foot out of this old dusty shop for days. It's well about the time you go out. It's time to go for a dinner, angel. My treat, okay?" He tossed a pair of car keys into the air, then caught them again.

Now, surely he hadn't stayed inside for that long? Well, okay, so maybe he had, but... This was getting suspicious. Crowley wasn't usually this nice, not unless he wanted something. Sure, they were friends and overall friendly, but something in Crowley's grin was making him suspicious. Even when Crowley truly was being nice, he kept up his demonic appearances. A smirk was the most he might have expected, not a grin. That was too much -- and that meant that Crowley had something in mind.

"What exactly are you planning?" Aziraphale thus asked suspiciously. "Confess up. What are you after? It's definitely not like you to try to be this nice." He set the book down, however. Even though it was clear the demon was planning something, he had to admit that a dinner sounded nice.

"Oh, you hurt my feelings," Crowley replied, returning to the previous smirk. It was familiar enough, but not enough to soothe Aziraphale's suspicions. "How do you know that I can't be nice every once in a while, too? After all, I've hung around you long enough for you to rub off on me."

At that, the angel could do nothing but snort. "You can be nice occasionally, fair enough," he admitted -- it was true after all, and one of the main reasons why he loved the demon. "It's just that when you are nice, Crowley, you're usually after something. I'd like to know in advance what it is."

"Really, Aziraphale," Crowley replied, sounding exasperated. Then he put on his best pleading face. Unfortunately, even though he even let his shades slide down a bit to achieve the right look, formerly snake-shaped demons weren't good with puppy eyes. It had something to do with the slit pupils. "Just how many times have I treated you for a dinner, or the other way around? What's so special about this time?"

"Your grin, that's what," replied Aziraphale dryly, taking the glasses off his face and putting them into his pocket. "You only grin like that when you want something from me. Otherwise, you just smirk."

For a brief moment Aziraphale saw a look of disappointment crossing the demon's face. However, it disappeared rather soon. As there clearly wasn't any reason for such a reaction, he then dismissed it as a trick of his imagination. The demon had slid his shades back on so that the angel couldn't tell where he was looking; however, it very clearly wasn't at him, given the surprise the demon showed when he stopped at his side. "W-what?" Crowley stammered, obviously not having noticed his approach.

"Well, you wanted to take me for a dinner, right?" Aziraphale raised an eyebrow in slight amusement and wonder. It was not easy to surprise Crowley. Whatever the demon was planning, it had to be big to hold his attention like that. And if it was something big, he'd better know about it in advance. "I suppose I won't find out what you're after unless I play along. So, are we going or not?"

Crowley looked still a bit stunned and slightly annoyed at himself. Anyway, he led their way to his car. He then started to drive -- or, rather, he let the car drive itself, responding lightly to Aziraphale's comments. The angel, of course, didn't like it one bit. He always got kind of nervous whenever Crowley let the car lead itself -- not that he'd felt very secure or comfortable when Crowley himself was driving, though. Still, he decided not to comment. He knew from the experience of years that the demon wouldn't care.

As they then sat in the driving car, Aziraphale noticed that Crowley wasn't really concentrating on the conversation. True, he did answer here and there, nodded and shook his head in the right points, but he could clearly see that not a single word was actually registered in the demon's mind. Something was obviously bothering Crowley -- and if something bothered the demon, Aziraphale should panic.

After some time he noticed that the demon wasn't even responding anymore. "And then I said to Michael, 'Of course there's nothing wrong with you having an affair with Raphael, it sure is better than your former crush on Metatron,'" he now concluded his speech. As the demon still didn't react, he frowned. Now something was certainly wrong. "Err... Crowley?" he asked. "Is something the matter? You've just sat there without saying anything for a while now." There was still no response. "...Crowley? Hey, Crowley?"

The demon startled a bit, then at least seemingly regained his usual calmness. "What? Oh, yes. Sorry. I was just in my thoughts." Aziraphale didn't say anything, but he did glance at Crowley wonderingly. He never apologized, certainly not for being in his thoughts. After all, he often ignored the angel altogether.

The rest of the way to the restaurant was filled with the most awkward silence Aziraphale had experienced for a long time, especially with Crowley. Crowley definitely wasn't one for awkward silences; only very few situations kept him from speaking his mind. And afterwards, the dinner wasn't any better.

If Crowley had been just as loud and arrogant as ever before, he most certainly wasn't that now. The demon was quiet and uneasy, hardly ever meeting his gaze. Now Aziraphale was certain that his oldest and pretty much only friend was plotting something -- something he wouldn't like. And, as Crowley's usual behaviour wasn't there to make him forget his angelic inhibitions, he too was unable to make a conversation. Instead, he contented himself by watching his unusually quiet companion.

There was no doubt that Crowley was good-looking. Whereas Aziraphale himself preferred to let his life form his human body -- not that he couldn't have lost a few pounds -- Crowley used his demonic powers to look as handsome as possible. The lean, yet muscular body was tuned to perfection to please as many eyes and tempt as many people as possible. The jet-black hair was thick and shiny, practically inviting the angel to run his fingers through it and enjoy its silky feel. A pale face without any flaws on the smooth skin, high cheekbones, thin yet perfectly formed lips -- yes, Crowley had indeed done his best. Even though Aziraphale couldn't see the snakelike eyes currently hidden behind the shades, he had seen them often enough that he could well imagine their hypnotizing glow and intense gaze.

Aziraphale sighed inwardly. He was torturing himself for nothing, and he knew it. There was no way he could do anything to the demon besides watching. Crowley was a demon; he could never feel anything for an angel. Their friendship alone was more than Aziraphale could have ever wished for, but that didn't keep him from dreaming for more -- and getting disappointed over and over again. Feeling friendship for anybody, let alone for an angel, was already straining the borders of Crowley's demonic nature. Any deeper feelings, aside from lust, were most probably far outside his emotional range -- and the demon probably preferred it that way. After all, who would want to waste their time to foolish things like love?

Oh, yes. Aziraphale indeed loved Crowley, loved him like only an angel could -- and more. Angels were supposed to love everything, yes, but they hardly had any positive emotions in stock for their Fallen counterparts. He did love his Enemy, though, and regretted it every day as he knew it could never lead to anything. Lust was all he might expect from Crowley, and he hardly was anything to lust after.

The demon himself, though... Now, he was something that could make an angel Fall, like Aziraphale had come to notice when his own thoughts disturbed him late at night. Not that this particular angel was afraid of Falling because of Crowley, no. In the beginning, he had been, but he no more was. If his feelings for Crowley could make him Fall that would have happened already.

After all, the sin of thought was the sin of deed.

"_But I say unto you, That whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart_," the Bible told him. But did demons count as well?

Aziraphale had never felt any kind of attraction towards a human, neither a man nor a woman. Not even for the briefest moment had he ever lusted after a member of humanity. For a long time he had thought that lust was impossible for angels, that it was something only humans and demons encountered. However, lately he had come to notice that it was not so; instead, he had indeed lusted after Crowley. Yet he hadn't Fallen.

These thoughts were fruitless, though, like he noted to himself with another silent, resigned sigh. The demon could never feel anything beyond friendship for him, and he should be overjoyed to receive even that. So, he just watched Crowley and his sinfully perfect body, observed him closely enough to know his every bad habit and unconscious mannerism, loved and lusted and dreamed. Angels were good at dreaming.

Somehow they both survived the silent dinner. Finally Crowley stood up. "Let's go for a walk," he suggested. Aziraphale, now very curious and a bit confused because of the demon's behaviour, agreed.

When they were standing in front of the duck pond, just like usually, the angel finally got enough of his friend's weird behaviour. "Okay, what is it, Crowley?" he asked. "Something is clearly bothering you. It's like you became a wholly different person on the way from my shop to the restaurant."

The demon drew a deep breath, seeming to avoid Aziraphale's gaze. How he managed to do this as eye contact through his shades in the first place was a miracle in itself. "I think I have to go away for some time," he said. As Aziraphale raised his eyebrows, asking for an explanation with his expression, he continued, "Like... like for a century. Or two. Yeah, that'd probably be enough."

"What?" Crowley's words made Aziraphale's heart sink to the pit of his stomach. Crowley was leaving? That couldn't be. A life without Crowley was... it wasn't a proper life at all. He simply couldn't imagine it. Not understanding why the demon would do such a thing, he asked, "Why'd you leave?"

Crowley fiddled with a lock of his raven hair, looking rather uneasy -- how very undemonic. Crowley never looked uneasy; it just wasn't him. "Let's just say that something has come up," he muttered. "Something that won't leave me in peace, so I have to leave to get rid of it."

"Oh." Aziraphale thought about that. So Crowley had got himself in trouble, most probably with his superiors, or at least somebody from their side. Well, Aziraphale most certainly wouldn't let him just leave and get himself killed or worse. He couldn't. So, there was only one thing he could possibly do -- to follow along wherever Crowley went. So, he said, "Yeah, I think I could manage that."

"What?" Crowley looked startled. "What do you think you could manage? What are you talking about?"

"Well, moving the bookshop, of course," Aziraphale replied. He was slightly surprised. Sure, Crowley was a demon, but he still should have known him better than that. After all, humans didn't talk about guardian angels for nothing. All angels had a natural instinct to do anything in their might to help and protect those they loved. "Do you really think I'd let you go alone, especially if you're in trouble? I'm too used to having you around. There's really no other option but me following you, wherever you are going to go to."

"No!" exclaimed Crowley hastily, startling Aziraphale. The angel looked at him in surprise and disbelief. Why wouldn't the demon let him come along? He surely could take care of himself. "That is... er..." Now, Crowley was actually blushing! This was just unnatural. Aziraphale was starting to feel a bit nervous in addition to his surprise. "I meant, you really don't need to follow me, angel... and you don't want to, either. It might -- it might get a bit nasty. Yeah. That's it."

"The more help you need," Aziraphale said. He was a big boy already; nobody could live on the Earth for six millennia and not learn how to take of themselves, not even the most naive angel. Surely Crowley knew that? Besides, the demon's expression confused and worried him. Something was not right here. He frowned slightly. "That's not it, is it, Crowley?" he asked then. Only one other possible reason came to his mind, so he tried, "It is something about me, isn't it?" Then, the realization hit him unexpectedly, shattering his heart into a thousand pieces. It was all clear to him now. "It's me you're trying to get rid of!"

Crowley looked briefly annoyed at something. He then opened his mouth as if to talk, but not a word ever came out. So, after a moment he just closed his mouth and lowered his gaze.

"Why do you want to get rid of me?" asked Aziraphale quietly. He needed to find the reason for this. If he knew the reason, maybe he could convince Crowley to stay after all. "What's so bad about me? You've managed to stand my more or less constant presence for the last six millennia. I thought we were friends by now. Why would you want to leave me now, after all this time?"

The demon sighed -- again something he never did. Then he whispered with a voice too low for any human ear to catch, "I don't want you to Fall." After a small pause, he added, "You can't Fall because of me."

At that, Aziraphale was confused for a moment. Why'd Crowley be concerned about such a thing? It wasn't very likely that he could Fall because of their friendship, and if he could, he would have already. And besides, friendship was the most innocent feeling he had for the demon; he most certainly didn't fear Falling because of it. "Why would I Fall because of you?" he thus asked. "Friendship is no sin, certainly."

"No, friendship isn't," admitted Crowley, looking pained. "But something else might be." Aziraphale still didn't understand what the demon was going after. Well, of course his hopeful heart could indeed come up with one possibility, but that was just too improbable and absurd to even be seriously considered.

However, the hopeful heart's whispers turned into shouts of joy at Crowley's next act. The demon sighed in frustration, then exclaimed, "Oh, for G- Sa- whoever's sake!" Then he stepped forward, and Aziraphale found himself being pulled forward. Then, before he could react in any way, he was being kissed. Kissed. By Crowley! His heart practically exploded with joy, his head telling him it couldn't be true, it had to be a dream. Before he could even start to respond to the kiss, however, Crowley stepped back and vanished.

* * *

Aziraphale sighed as he flew over the darkening town, invisible to human eyes. He wasn't wearing a shirt of any kind, as it would have been ripped anyway when he unfurled his wings, but that hardly meant anything to him. At first he had been cold but then he had decided that he wasn't feeling the cold, and thus wasn't. However, despite the lack of notable discomfort on the physical side -- except for the strain on his wings and back for the flying; he'd seemingly got a bit out of shape lately -- emotionally, he was in pain. 

This just couldn't be happening. After all these years Crowley had finally given him hope that they might be something more than friends, and at the next moment, the demon had vanished. Aziraphale knew that if he didn't find the demon soon, he'd leave, and then he wouldn't see him again for a long time -- perhaps forever. And that, loneliness and longing different from anything else, he simply couldn't bear.

Now all he could do was to hope that Crowley hadn't left London already, and wouldn't leave until he found him. Flying past yet another building, he smiled bitterly at the irony of the situation. A few millennia ago, before the Arrangement, he could have easily told where the demon was, even if he'd been on the other side of the world. Nowadays he had become so accustomed to Crowley's demonic aura that he no more reacted to it, just like his angelic aura had no harmful effect on the demon anymore. They both could still detect the other's presence, but only on short distances. Before he had thought of it as a blessing, a result of and a requirement for their friendship allowing them to be near each other. Now, however, when it might mean losing his dear demon, it appeared as the most malicious curse ever.

One part of him, his more cynical half, was all the time yelling at him that this wasn't a good idea. 'Lust is all he feels for you,' this voice told him. 'Friendship prevents him from freeing that lust, not love. Is that what you want? Giving out all your love and getting lust in exchange? When he no more wants you, he'll leave you. There's no way you can go back to being friends after that. You'll be all alone!'

Another voice, however, was telling him a wholly different tale. 'Listen to your heart,' it told him. 'Crowley sure does love you; that's why he is going to leave. You have to stop him. If you don't, you'll regret it forever.' For some reason, this other voice resembled Gabriel's. It was kind of creepy.

Anyway, Aziraphale had made his decision. He might be cynical, much more so than an angel should, but even he was, in the end, an angel, and he wanted to believe the best about everything and everyone, even if he always didn't. And, like he had to agree with the second voice, he would regret it the rest of his existence. Losing Crowley was something he really didn't want to even imagine.

To his great relief he finally spotted the demon. Crowley was sitting on a rooftop, looking down at the town. The demon briefly surrounded himself with his wings, and he looked so lonely and sad that Aziraphale's heart was breaking at the mere sight of him. And, at the same time, he also felt that the Gabriel-like voice in his head was very childishly sticking its tongue out at the cynical one. 'Told you so.'

Ignoring the voices the angel sped up his flight. Just as he got nearer Crowley stood up and spread his wings, seemingly just about to leave. When Aziraphale landed next to him, however, the demon froze.

For a moment Aziraphale just watched Crowley intently, taking in every detail. The demon looked unusually pale, and his expression was rather sad, though Aziraphale's angelic instincts sensed a hint of hope in his aura. This in turn gave the angel hope, hope that it really was love Crowley felt for him.

Finally he was unable to hold back any longer. Uncaring about the possible consequences, he stepped forward. "Love is no sin," he said softly, watching Crowley with a mix of slight amusement and very much love filling his heart. He reached out a hand and caressed the demon's cheek, enjoying the feel of the flawless skin under his fingers. "Not even love for a demon." And, that said, he did what he had dreamed of for ages but had been too scared to do. To be exact, he leant forward and kissed Crowley.

At first Crowley tensed a bit, and for a brief moment Aziraphale worried whether this had been the right thing to do. After a moment, however, Crowley relaxed, then snaked his hands up around the angel's neck, responding his kiss. Deepening the kiss, Aziraphale then wrapped his wings around the demon, closing out all outside distractions. It was only him and Crowley now, nothing and nobody else.

And then he noticed just how good a thing it was that they didn't necessarily need to breathe.

* * *

Aziraphale woke slowly, enjoying the feeling of the soft, luxurious bed and the warm body beside his, under his wing. He was beginning to understand why Crowley liked sleeping so much. 

Thinking about the demon made him glance at his side, and he smiled lovingly. Curled up beside him, the lean body covered by his wing, lay Crowley, fast asleep. The angel had heard that humans in general looked younger and more innocent when asleep; even if it was so, that certainly wasn't the case with the demon. Crowley's true age was impossible to detect from his young features, and he couldn't have looked innocent even if he'd spent the whole of eternity trying. He was a demon in the end, after all. However, his features indeed were softer in his sleep, a lock of hair falling to his forehead.

Aziraphale reached out to wipe aside that uncontrolled strand, smiling slightly. When Crowley was awake, no hair on his head dared to be out of place. Thinking about this with slight amusement and just a bit of sadness, he covered the demon wholly with his pearly white wing. Just then he noticed the first signs of the other immortal creature waking up, the carefully shifting body brushing the feathers of his wing.

After a moment, during which Crowley lay still, seemingly not minding his position, he removed his wing from the demon's face. Looking down he saw the golden eyes, unguarded by the usual shades, which were now lying on the nearby table. For a moment they just looked at each other, and the angel smiled warmly. There was a bit of teasing in his smile, too -- Crowley looked incredibly cute with his messy hair.

Aziraphale then leant forward, brushing his lips over Crowley's in a gentle caress full of love. "It looks like I haven't Fallen yet, so I doubt it will happen because of you anyway," he said happily, still smiling at the demon he loved so much. "I told you love is no sin, didn't I?"

"Well, if I am all about sin," Crowley replied quickly, "then you certainly got a whole little devil inside you last night." Then his expression immediately turned into one of regret and slight worry. He must have thought that Aziraphale would get angry at him for saying such an inappropriate thing.

Knowing what Crowley must have expected from him, Aziraphale still just smiled. Right now nothing could annoy him -- not even Crowley. Especially not with a comment like that. "Now, now," he purred playfully. "I wouldn't call it that little." Enjoying the demon's stunned expression, he just kissed him again. 'Got you,' he thought, thoroughly enjoying this one time he was able to make Crowley speechless.

As Aziraphale finally cut off the kiss, Crowley just stared at him for a while. Then, he smirked. "I knew you were just enough of a bastard to be worth liking," he said triumphantly.

"Or loving," replied Aziraphale, smiling. He no more had any doubts about what Crowley felt for him.

Seemingly Crowley didn't find a fast response to that. So, he just nodded, and kissed the angel. Aziraphale responded to the kiss, smiling slightly against Crowley's lips.

* * *

A/N: Umm... So, that was it. I really don't know what to think about it. So, comments, please? 


End file.
